“Hey twat, toss me my jacket, will you?”
Louis paused by the coat rack on his way out the door. He wasn’t sure what he had expected after Harry’s breakdown the other day — would everything change? would they be tolerant of each other now? — but he should have known it would go right back to how it had been before. Harry was being, as always, a complete dick.
He smacked Louis’ ass while he was in the kitchen, he took the remote for the television out of his hands and turned the channel, he ate the last of the bread and didn’t bother to tell him; all of the little things that bothered a Louis to no end.
The worst part was, it didn’t go back to the way it had been the day before the breakdown, or even the way it was a few days before the breakdown. Harry’s attitude had somehow morphed all the way back to what it had been like right when the whole ordeal started. He was possessive, and rude, and inconsiderate, and it made Louis want to scream and pull his hair out.
He wasn’t sure he liked the vulnerable Harry he had seen on the anniversary of the death of his father, but he didn’t like this asshole he was forced to live with either. And while he knew he didn’t like either of those versions of Harry, and knew he didn’t like Harry at all, that seemed to be just about all he knew where emotions were involved. His mind was constantly reeling, even when Harry was a prat, he could feel more emotions running through him than pure hatred and annoyance like before. It was tainted with something… warmer. Not hotter, per say, but warmer. He would get flickers of things he had never felt before, and it scared him shitless. He couldn’t stand the thought of being so clueless and vulnerable around the one person who made him that way, and the one person most likely to take advantage of it.
“Here,” he grumbled, throwing the coat to Harry’s outstretched hand with a scowl.
“Unbunch your face there, sweetcheeks, you’re gonna get wrinkles.” Harry smirked, slipping his arms through his sleeves and adjusting the collar of the coat around his neck. “Though, if you need help with the wrinkles, I know of a pretty easy solution.”
He lifted his eyebrows and swept past Louis and outside. Louis glared after him, closing the door and locking it before following behind.
“Oh yeah?” He said, his tone mocking and dripping with evident sarcasm.
“Oh yeah.” Harry lifted his eyebrows in false innocence and blinked twice. “I hear spunk does wonders for the skin, no wonder you’re looking so youthful.”
“Fuck off, Styles.” He climbed up into the passengers side of Harry’s Range Rover, pulling his seat belt over him and clicking it closed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking out the window.
“Aww, I knew you’d care about the wrinkles,” Harry’s face was innocent and malevolant at the same time. Louis wasn’t sure how he managed, but it was Harry Styles, after all, the world’s biggest douche bag. “And if you insist, babe.”
Louis rolled his eyes as Harry made a show of unbuttoning his pants, and shifted his body further away to face the window.
“Don’t be so pissy,” Harry said, starting the car with a turn of the key.
“I’m not being pissy,” he grumbled.
“Louis, you’re crossing your arms, grumbling, and refusing to look at me. Pretty sure that’s the definition of pissy.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re the definition of prick and I try not to associate with them.”
“We’re fucking, Louis. I think it’s safe to say that’s more than ‘association’.”
“I said I try, I didn’t say I was successful.” Louis could feel Harry glancing at him, even as they drove through the city to the restaurant where the other boys were already waiting. He knew he shouldn’t enjoy it, and he kind of didn’t, but he kind of did. It pissed him off that Harry was risking their safety to look at him, it just went to show how irresponsible and immature he was. But then again, it made his heart thump a little too loudly in his chest from this weird emotion that kept popping up out of nowhere. One minute he would be content with being angry and frustrated and nearly hating Harry, and the next his heart would swell at the sight of Harry’s eyes on him and how close his hand was to his knee as it rested on the gear-shaft of the car. Everything about this… thing… that they had going on confused him.
“You don’t try.” Harry’s eyes were on him again. He could feel them boring into his head and he fought the urge to turn around.
“Eyes on the road, dipshit.”
His own eyes shifted to the side, too subtly for Harry to see, but enough for him to notice Harry’s brow furrow slightly as he turned his eyes back on the road. The look was gone in a second, barely there long enough for Louis to be sure he even saw it at all.
“I told you you were being pissy.”
It took everything Louis had to stay calm. His blood pounded in his ears and his face was red and hot. He clenched his jaw hard and glared ahead, the parking garage of the restaurant loomed ahead and he focused on the thought of the boys. He would sit between Zayn and Niall and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything.
The younger boy pulled up to the barrier and rolled down his window, pushed the button on the box and retrieving their ticket. He leaned back in and held the card out between his middle and index finger. Louis took it from him without looking, eyes trained on the cars parked along the walls as they drove passed.
"Don’t lose that," Harry said, turning the corner and glancing at him. Louis rolled his eyes but stayed silent. He was determined to hold back, he wouldn’t give Harry the satisfaction of messing with him whenever he wanted.
The car turned into the parking space smoothly, the engine humming for a brief moment as Harry adjusted into park, Louis unbuckling and jumping out of the car before the keys could be removed. He walked to the lift, shoving his thumb against the the button on the wall, the doors opening automatically. Harry squeezed through the them, just as they began to close.
"Fuck, Louis you could’ve waited."
Louis didn’t respond. He pressed the number 5 a few more times with the tip of his forefinger, breathing deeply and turning the ticket over in his hand.
"And don’t bloody drop that ticket. Put it is your pocket or something, you twat."
Again, Louis remained silent. He breathed deeply through his nose, closing his eyes and trying to quiet the pounding blood in his ears. He willed the heat in his face to disapate and the tense, jumping nerve in his jaw to still. He could almost feel alone, the only sounds his own; his heartbeat, his breath, the flicking of the card in his fingers—
A rough hand hit his own, releasing his grip on the piece of paper and sending it spiraling to the floor. His eyes shot open, but again, using every ounce of restraint he had, he held back from punching Harry in the face, from screaming at the top of his lungs, from jumping onto the smirking boy beside him. Instead, Louis simply bent over and retrieved the ticket from the ground, shoving it in his pocket.
"God DAMMIT Louis!" Harry yelled, hands pushing into his curls and gripping them. Louis turned his head to look at him just as he charged, emerald eyes blazing. "Fucking REACT to me! SHIT! I just need you to fucking— FUCK!"
His hand lashed out and Louis flinched. Harry had never hit him before, not like that. He had never hurt him physically out of such a pure anger, it sent Louis’ heart beating painfully in his chest, his brain screaming for retreat, but he was trapped. Harry’s hand sailed passed him, punching the stop button on the lift’s control panel. His other tangled itself in Louis’ hair, pulling the older boy’s lips onto his own.
Louis’ mind exploded and his skin burned. He grabbed onto the front of Harry’s shirt, pulling him close, pressing their bodies completely together, their legs tangled and their chests flushed. His mouth opened, allowing Harry’s tongue in to lick over his. He could feel the familiar scratch of Harry’s chin and the mot, moistness of his mouth. It felt like home, familiar and comforting, but wild and risky and forbidden at the same time.
The air around them spun, the oxygen disappearing from their small space as Harry pushed them back so Louis leaned against the wall of the lift. The taller boy released his lips, pressing his mouth against Louis’ neck and biting, grabbing the back of his thighs with his large hands and lifting them up and around his waist in one solid movement.
"Fucking react to me, Tomlinson," he growled into Louis’ bruising skin. It sent a shiver down Louis spine, the deep, raspy voice vibrating against his flesh.
"I don’t know how." His last word faded into a moan as Harry rolled their hips together, his pants growing uncomfortably tight. Harry bit him again, causing him to gasp, pressing their bodies closer together and tangling one hand in Harry’s long hair. Louis was trapped between the hard wall of the lift — vibrating with electricity as it hung suspended high above the ground — and the hot, firm body that made his breath hitch with every touch.
"Yell at me or hit me or — fuck—" Harry cut himself off. His hand dove between them, palming against the bulge in Louis’ trousers and fighting with the zipper. He rested his forehead against Louis’s shoulder, supporting him with his legs as he used both hands to undo the button. His long fingers fumbled quickly until he succeeded, wrapping an arm around Louis’ waist to keep him off the ground as he pulled the smaller boy’s trousers down. "Just— notice me."
Louis let out a whine, Harry’s rough jeans rubbing against the sensitive flesh of his erection. He wasn’t sure whether the noise was from the sensation, or from the twinge in his heart at Harry’s words.
Notice him? How could he not notice him? Louis thought about him all the time. Every thought could be traced back to Harry, every fucking confusing emotion stemmed from the younger boy’s actions. It wasn’t possible for Louis to notice him any more than he did.
He gasped again, mind going slightly numb and his contemplations forgotten for the brief moment Harry rubbed his own, jean clad pelvis against Louis’ bare one.
"Too many clothes," he managed to mumble out, untangling his hands from Harry’s hair and shirt to pull at his trousers. Harry didn’t help him. He latched onto Louis’ neck, sucking and biting at the flesh, his hands gripping Louis’ thighs tightly. He was mumbling against Louis skin, indistinguishable words branding its flaming surface. Every vibration caused a wave through his nerves, shocking his brain into a blissful state of barrenness.
He could feel Harry, and Harry’s voice and Harry’s smell and Harry’s skin. The familiarity of their situation made his heart skip and jump too erratically to be healthy. He was becoming a medical phenomenon; the boy with the strange, rarely beating heart.
Louis’s hands succeeded, pushing Harry’s trousers down and gripping the back of his head, pulling it away from his neck to look at him.
"Fuck me, Harry."
There was a brief second, a second where time seemed to still, nearly stop, where the only movement was the rise and fall of their chests and the swirling of Harry’s eyes, where the only sound was their quick breaths in and out bouncing off the dull metal walls of the parking garage lift. Louis’ lungs contracted, forcing a small squeak of air from his throat, breaking the silence. Harry mouth surged to his own, covering it with the harsh forcefullness off obvious need and sexual frustration. His bottom lip was sucked into Harry’s mouth and the boy’s teeth pressed into his flesh.
"Gladly," Harry said against his mouth.
Louis latched onto the fingers offered him, sucking on them and coating them in as much spit as possible before Harry removed them and began to push them into him without warning. The older boy’s head leaned back against the wall and his fingers dug into the back of Harry’s skull, fingers tangled with the boy’s curls, pulling at them as he hissed, the slow burn of the fingers making his insides clench in anticipation.
"Perfect," Harry mumbled against the other side of Louis’ neck, the side free of the ungodly bruises and marks where Harry had claimed him. Free of the love-bites that showed who he belonged to. The long, slender fingers shifted inside, brushing his walls and scissoring him wider and wider, preparing him, but they were gone too soon. Louis whined at the emptiness, rolling his hips to brush his erection against the fabric of Harry’s shirt. He briefly wondered if there would be evidence left on their clothing, enough that the boys would wonder, but the moment was short, cut off by the feeling of Harry’s dick against him, lining up.
"G-go." Louis shuddered, whispering against Harry’s ear. "AHH!"
He cried out as Harry thrust and pulled him down simuntaneously, biting down hard against Louis’ shoulder and digging his fingers into Louis’ thighs. There was a pain that burned briefly while a spike of pleasure shot through Louis’ entire body like a bolt of electricity. His arms pulled Harry even closer, his legs squeezing tighter, his whole body aching to feel every inch of the other so close to him. But it was as if he couldn’t get close enough, like there was always some piece he wasn’t pulling into him. He had Harry wrapped in his body, but there was a piece missing, a piece Louis had never felt before.
"So. Fucking. Perfect." Harry ecsentuated every word with a thrust of his hips, burying himself in Louis over and over. "Always. Perfect. All the. Fucking. Time.
"Harry!" Louis didn’t know if he was yelling for Harry to stop talking, or to keep going, but he knew that air in the lift was getting too hot, he felt like he was on fire. He knew that there was no longer enough oxygen to breathe because each gulp of useless air his lungs tried to take in did nothing to clear his head or rid it from the dizzy, aching feeling.
The metal wall began to slip behind him as he was pounded into repeatedly, his eyes searching for the right place to rest but only falling on Harry. Harry with his messy hair and the sweat forming on his brow and upper lip. Louis cried out as Harry shifted his feet, thrusting again and hitting his prostate hard, sending him jerking up and causing his walls to squeeze. Harry let out a loud grunt, thrusting faster.
"Shit, Harry—" Louis clawed at the boy’s broad back for perchase, hiking up his shirt and rubbing his hands down against the burning skin beneath them. He could feel the trembling of Harry’s muscles, as well as his own, and keened loudly when Harry’s hand squeezed his dick roughly.
His eyes found Harry’s, such a dark green with the pupils blown from arousal. Something clicked in his body, like a person flicking a switch on a vacuum cleaner, and all the air was ripped from his lungs. His mouth opened in a silent scream as his skin tightened around him and exploded outwards, coming all over Harry’s hand and his own shirt.
"Fuck, fuck,fuck—" Harry panted, continuing to thrust as Louis’ walls clenched around him sporadically. "Louis—I—"
Louis squeezed. His entire body wrapped around Harry’s and he embraced him in a hug nearly so complete that he forgot where he ended and Harry began. His brain was blank but for his overwhelming need to /feel/ Harry against him, every part of him.
"FUCK." Harry came inside him, jerking against him and leaning heavily against his body, both of them supported by the scorching heat of the metal wall.
They panted, bodies entangled for a moment. Harry had one hand gripping under Louis’ thigh while the other braced him against the wall by the other boy’s head. Louis began to loosen his hold, allowing Harry to slip out of him and lower him to the ground.
"My shirt…" Louis looked down at the splatter of white covering his front side, impossible to hide. He glanced at Harry, who was smirking. "The lads are not going to let this go, and I can’t go out in public with this…"
He frowned, slightly, trying to wipe the cum off, but merely serving to spread it further. Harry wiped the cum from his hand onto the shirt, much to Louis’ dismay, but pulled at the hem, tugging it over the slim boy’s body, leaving him completely naked and standing in a parking garage lift, staring at the man who had just fucked him.
"I’ve got a jumper in the car," Harry’s voice rumbled through the lift, bouncing off the walls and back to their ears. He pulled his pants up, Louis following suit, and shrugged. "We’ll grab it before we see the boys."
Louis nodded.
Harry reached out one hand, leaning forward towards Louis, and pressed the ‘B’ to return them to the floor where their car, and the clean jumper, sat waiting. The lurch of the elevator made Louis’ stomach flop precariously, his head still dizzy and heavy. Neither boy said anything on the ride down, or the short walk to the car where Harry leaned over the back seat to fish out the slightly rumpled jumper that was slight large on Louis’ smaller frame. It wasn’t until they were in the lift again, going up, and this time not stopping, that Louis finally opened his mouth.
"I do notice you, Harry. I ignore you on purpose."
Harry opened his mouth to speak when the door made a small ding and opened, a woman stepping in beside them with a smile.
"Which floor?" Louis asked politely.
"Six, please," she answered.
There were two more floors of awkward silence, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. It was a relief to step out, both boys breathing deep once they were free of the restraints that had seemed so welcome before, when things were hot and easy and good. Harry turned to Louis, looking like he was about to speak, when they were once again interrupted.
"Louis! Harry!" Liam waved them over, the three boys standing patiently in front of the door to the restaurant. The two newcomers walked over, faces blank, void of all evidence of what had recently transpired between them. "What took you guys so long?"
"Louis had to change his shirt," Harry shrugged.
"Into /that/, mate?" Zayn looked at Louis with one eyebrow raised.
"I didn’t exactly have a lot of time, or anything to chose from," Louis said.
"Harry," Liam said, voice slightly puzzled.
"Yeah, Liam?"
"You’ve got, uh, you’ve got some—"
"Holy shit, Haz! You’ve got jizz on your shirt!" Zayn covered his mouth with his hand, as did Liam, both attempting —and failing— to stifle laughter. Niall didn’t. His blue eyes glanced from Louis to Harry in confusion and surprise.
"You didn’t—?" He whispered.
"Don’t be ridiculous," Harry grinned, slinging his arm over Niall’s shoulders. "Come on, let’s get some food."